A/N - Sorry I didn't respond to my reviews last chapter. Here they are now.

SiriusAboutMarauders: Of course I've got toddler Sirius in this fic, I'd have to be mad to call this a Marauders fic and NOT have him in it! Besides, can't you just picture him as a 3-year-old? ^_^

Erenriel: No you may *NOT* have toddler Remus. -_- You have all the versions of Remus you could ever need already. Chibi-Remus? The blue duotang? Your own fanfictions? All those pics you printed off of Elfwood? Have mercy and let me keep him. My version. My Remmy. OK?

AbigailNicole: Thank you very much for the great long review. With advice! I know my descriptions are my weakest point, and I do try, but sometimes I forget. Just remind me if I start to forget again. And I'm not totally sure if my mini-Marauders ARE too articulate for 3-year-olds. I've babysat a kid about that age before and OK, it's cutting it close - but maybe, just maybe, the three talking Marauders are like that because they're so clever when they're older. Generally that's the way it is.

Note - I figure Mrs. Black was more indifferent to Sirius when he was small, rather than outright hating him like she did when he was older.

So, this is the chapter in which the meetings begin. Enjoy! This first part is pure sadness. Poor little Remus - I just wanna give him a big hug! /o,_o\

Disclaimer - I swear on all five HP books that I will take good care of the mini-Marauders, JK. Please let me keep them! Please! I solemnly swear it...

*~*~*Can I Pleathe Die? Or At Leatht, Thtay Overnight?*~*~*

"Is there nothing you can do?" asked Anita, anguished.

The Healer shook his head. "Sorry, Mrs. Lupin. Once bitten, there's nothing we can do to stop the process of the lycanthropy. We've been researching cures for centuries here, but -" he shrugged, helplessly - "young Remus'll just have to learn to cope."

Remus was sitting up in the hospital bed, pale and wide-eyed. The green sheets made him look slightly green as well. For all Anita knew, he might really have been. Remus had a tendency to worry a lot. "Am I sick?" he asked tremulously. "Weally sick?"

"No, Remus," Martin said gently. "You're not sick...you've just got some - magic, in you, that... that'll turn you into a wolf every full moon," he tried to explain. "A werewolf."

"Like that big thing that bit me?" he asked fearfully.

Anita nodded sadly. "I'm afraid so."

"It was scawy!" he whimpered. "Am I gonna be like that?"

"Yes..." Martin affirmed heavily.

Remus started to cry. "I don' wanna be a wewewolf! I don' wanna be a big scawy monstew! I don' wanna!"

"I know, sweetie, I know...we don't want you to be one either," Anita said, hugging him close. "But you are."

Slowly his sobs quieted. "Will I always be one?" he asked quietly, still sounding tearful.

"Yes, Remmy...but you'll learn to cope, you can live with it...you can't let it bother you too much...and we'll always be there for you..."

"But I don' wanna!" yelled Remus.

Just then the door to the ward opened and a pale-faced little boy with a shock of black hair was led in by his stern-faced mother. Despite looking a little woozy, he grinned and waved at Remus with a wounded hand that had turned purple and started bubbling. "Hi!"

Still sniffling, Remus waved back, uncertainly.

The boy's mother began explaining what had happened to the Healer in a low voice. She barely glanced at her son, and looked disdainfully upon the Lupins before turning her back on them. Her proud, haughty demeanor suggested that despite the situation she was not about to lower herself to showing affection in public to her wounded son as the Lupins were. Anita, after studying her awhile, was not sure this woman even knew what 'affection' meant.

The others caught bits and pieces of their conversation. "....Friend's teacup...yes...never suspected...probably poisoned...keep him...night, just to be sure..."

The boy, meanwhile, wandered closer. "Who're you?"

"Wemus," said Remus, wiping his eyes.

"I'm Thiriuth. Did you get bited too?"

Remus nodded, cautiously. He instinctively liked the boy's slightly mischievous and friendly grin, but remained wary.

"I got bited. By a thilver teacup. Look what it did to my hand! Innit cool?"

Remus stared, fascinated and sufficiently distracted from his troubles. "Wowie." The wound was still bubbling, and had begun darkening from purple to nearly black.

"Well, Mrs. Black," said the Healer, "your boy will probably have to stay one night, just to make sure we get all that stuff out of his system. Potions too, you know, at odd hours, though one should suffice as long as he doesn't react badly."

"Will I die?" Sirius asked hopefully. Being so young, he wasn't totally sure what death was, but he was very interested in finding out nonetheless.

"No, kiddo," the Healer said, stifling a smile. "I'm afraid not."

"Drat!" He looked sulky, pouted, and then suddenly his face brightened. "Ith Remuth thtaying too?"

"Yep. He'll have to," explained the Healer, addressing the next sentence to his parents. "We've got to keep an eye on him. Sometimes people react badly to - you know..."

Anita nodded, then faced her son. "You'll be all right here?" Anita asked in concern. "Mum and Dad can't stay here with you. We'll be back in the morning though. Will you be OK?"

Remus looked worried for a split-second. Then he looked at Sirius and grinned. "OK."

As Martin held the door of the ward open for the two women to exit, another small boy with unruly black hair skipped past, singing, "I'm a seaw, I'm a seaw, I'm a swimmy wittwe seaw -" He clapped a large grey pair of flippers in time with his singing.

"Hi!" called Sirius, waving.

The boy doubled back and peeked in. "Hewo! I got fwippers!" He was grinning as though Christmas had come early, instead of being on the receiving end of a backfired spell.

"Neat-o! I got bited," Sirius informed him, holding up his hand.

"Wowie! What's your name?"

"Thiriuth," Sirius told him. "And thith ith my friend Remuth. He got bited too."

"I'm James -" he began before his mother, looking weary and rumpled, caught hold of him.

"Come on, Jamie, we don't want to keep the Healer waiting -"

"Bye!" yelled James as he was towed away.

"Bye Jameth!" called Sirius.

"Bye," echoed Remus.

They could hear him start singing again in the distance. "I'm a seaw, seaw, seaw -"

*~*~*

"I'm bowed," complained Remus, heaving a big little-boy sigh and flopping onto his stomach on the bed.

The Healer watching over the two sighed as well. "Well, what d'you want to do? Play? A game? Sleep, maybe?" The Healer desperately wanted to sleep himself. He'd been up since six that morning after a fairly late night before, and he'd stayed past the end of his shift when the two boys had been placed in his charge. He rubbed his eyes, and tried desperately to stay awake.

"Exthplore," Sirius said promptly.

"Aw, come on, can't you think of something else?"

"No."

"No games? Nothing?"

"No. Wanna exthplore," the small boy said stubbornly.

The Healer sighed. Why would they not sleep, like any other reasonable creature would at this hour? Why? He decided, privately, that here was a very good reason never to have kids. "But since you can't explore -"

"Why?" asked Remus.

"Because you'll disturb the other patients."

"Why?" Remus persisted.

"Because it's very late and people are sleeping. Like you two should be."

"Why?" Sirius chimed in as well.

"Because they're sick, tired people."

"Why?"

The Healer pulled at his hair and swore.

"You sayed a bad wowd," Remus informed him primly, jumping off the bed and shaking his finger sternly at the Healer. "That's not vewy nice. You shouldn'ta sayed it."

"My couthin thayth that all the time. And I'm thirthty," Sirius announced, changing the subject as small children are wont to.

"Me too," decided Remus.

"Me three," said the Healer. "How 'bout pumpkin juice all around?"

"Yeth pleathe!"

An idea had occurred to the Healer. If the boys would not sleep, perhaps he could make them sleep. He went to the cupboards and brought out three glasses, a jug of pumpkin juice, and a flask of Sleeping Potion.

He poured three glasses of juice and set them on the bedside table. He unstoppered the flask of Sleeping Potion and was about to add it to two glasses when Sirius said, "Can I have a thtraw, pleathe?"

Sighing, the Healer went back to the cupboards and began rummaging through them.

Meanwhile, Sirius and Remus, in an attempt to be helpful, hefted the flask and proceeded to dump some of the Sleeping Potion into one glass. The Healer slammed the cupboard doors, and they dropped it back to the table, startled, snatched up their own untainted glasses, and began gulping down the juice with alacrity.

"We don't have any straws," the Healer said, turning back.

"All done now," Remus announced, holding up his empty glass.

The Healer sighed again (Kids, he thought grimly), then lifted his own glass. Two large pairs of innocent eyes followed his movements as he drained his juice.

Then he keeled over on the spot, crumpled to the floor, and began snoring.

"Uh-oh. We killed him!" Sirius was horrified.

"Nuh-uh," disagreed Remus. "Dead people don' snowe."

"How do you know?"

"'Cause. They just don'."

"Oh." Sirius brightened. "Now we can exthplore!"

"And find James?"

"Yeth. We'll find Jameth." And thus decided, the two toddled off out of the ward.

*